


Loss

by Coalmine301



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [7]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Corpse Discovery, Gen, Mourning, post-Zigoola
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:48:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25590832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coalmine301/pseuds/Coalmine301
Summary: Never before had Anakin felt so alone.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1841479
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	Loss

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [With Rescue So Close](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15010013) by [I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning). 



Obi-wan had never been a tall man. Especially in comparison to both his mentor and padawan who were each at least a head or so taller (and boy did the latter like to gloat about that). In fact he was the third shortest member in their entire lineage and Ahsoka was rapidly approaching his own height. 

But here, now… Anakin had never seen him look smaller. Laying on the sterile white bed he looks so frail and tiny. The hellish planet had broken and beaten the bearded man to the point of death. And then further. 

Anakin had long since lost count of the number of times he had seen Obi-wan end up in the Halls of Healing. Hells, he had even seen injuries much worse than this. Obi-wan had _recovered_ from injuries much worse than this, not even scarring thanks to bacta.

But this time Obi-wan wasn't heading for the Halls. He was heading for the morgue. 

When Padme had told him Anakin hadn’t wanted to believe it. He refused to believe it. And so the blonde had raced up the ship's ramp and raced for the small med center.

A corpse had been laid out on a bed and a white sheet gently draped over it. Anakin could just make out familiar ginger hairs over the edge of the sheet.

He could recognize that exact shade anywhere.

And at that all breath left his lungs. Because that- that couldn’t be- there was no way…

No, this had to be some cruel trick. Some horrible game someone was playing. And with that thought he strode confidently forward and pulled back the sheet. Because what did he have to fear? It wouldn’t be Obi-wan’s face that greeted him-

It was. Oh dear Force. 

There lay his best friend, his brother. The muscular chest lay hauntingly still rather than rising and falling with breath. No huff of air left the slightly parted blue lips. No soft pounding of heartbeat in the side of the corpse’s neck.

The further Anakin pulled back the cover the more of his brother’s torment came to light. Someone had clearly tried to clean him off a little, his hair and beard both washed. But that did nothing to conceal the absolute torment the redhead had gone through.

Worst of all was how the bearded man was so skinny, so faded. As if he had been starving for months instead of just days. Anakin could easily count the smaller man’s ribs and if he turned the body over he knew he could probably see the bumps of his spine as well.

The redhead’s arms and legs were both covered in gaping wounds that would never close. Gaping holes in flesh that would never be given the chance to heal. A brutal saber wound made its home in his thigh and Anakin desperately hoped Obi-wan hadn’t done that to himself.

Oh, what did it matter? He was dead either way, wasn’t he?

That last thought caused a small hiccup to leave his mouth. His mentor, his best friend, his brother, the man he had spent almost his whole life with… laying lifeless on a cold medical bed. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He and Obi-wan were supposed to bring an end of the war, to see peace return to the galaxy, side by side. As they had done everything else. 

How could he possibly continue on now without his other half? 

Sobbing, Anakin pulled Obi-wan off the bed and cradled him softly in his arms. “I’m so sorry,” he cried into the familiar auburn hair. “I should have been there. I could have saved you.” 

No response, the corpse as silent as when he had found it. 

And all Anakin could do was sit there and pretend that his world hadn’t shattered. That his heart hadn’t been torn bleeding from his chest. To pretend he knew what was going to happen now, knew what to do.

Never before had he felt so alone.


End file.
